The Year Three: Fault Lines

The New Year of this age will now always begin upon the 11th of September, when the Towers fell, and America knew it was at war. So we mark the end of the third year of the struggle, when the enemies came to closer grips, and their wills were tested, and some failed.

Explosives killed and maimed men and women along the roads of Iraq. Marines stalked jihadis and Sadrists through Fallujah and Najaf, and killed them in their hundreds and thousands. Sadr crept out alive, but the Najafis celebrated his leaving.

Iraqis joined the IP, and bombed their neighbors, and formed political parties, and hid weapons, and bought satellite dishes, and drove to Kurdistan for vacation. Afghanistan registered voters, and grew poppies.

American citizens reached out to Iraqis and Afghans with aid, and the Internet spread through Iraq as its citizens and our soldiers told their stories. Freepers and lizardoids and DUers and Indymediots and Swifties debated and baited each other in a thousand virtual cafes across the globe. Old media, from al Jazeera to CBS, writhed in the crossfire.

Muslims slaughtered Muslims in the Sudan, and hung children in Iran. Civil war smoldered in the hills and slums of Pakistan. And some imams stepped back in horror from infanticide. Sistani took his walk, to an unknown destination.

Spain and the Philippines were tested, and found wanting. Blair and Berlusconi hung tough. France's perfidy became more clear in the rubble of Saddam's arms, and a hostage crisis revealed what Chirac thought he had bought. The Russian bear woke in agony, and the ghosts of the Cossacks stirred. The Left stepped a danse macabre, or jigged a magic to wish September 10th back.

Ahead lies Veterans' Day, the taking of Fallujah and an election in Baghdad, and beyond, Iran. And the enemy will have his vote.